I don’t even know how I got from Elliott’s dragon to Luke’s bed. The healer came to the house to fix me up and left quickly after in anticipation of other casualties. Apparently my wound wasn’t as deep as I thought and only needed to be cleaned and bandaged.

I lay in Luke’s bed crying for what feels like hours. The last time I felt this helpless was when my mom was dying, and there was nothing I could do to help her. I’m not alone in the room. Oliver has been with me since we landed. Elliott was too for a while. I didn’t think he felt comfortable leaving me alone with Oliver, but after the day’s events and our location, if Oliver tried to take me he wouldn’t get far. Oliver has gotten the brunt of my anger a few times, but I’ve lost the fight in me. He held me for a while and let me cry on him. I let out all of my fear regarding Luke’s well-being. In such a short time, I’ve become so used to having him around and very attached to him; I don’t want to be without him. But it didn’t matter how much begging and pleading I did, neither Oliver nor Elliott would let me leave.

The room is dark when a loud disturbance wakes me. I must have dozed off without meaning to. I sit up and see the moon’s light shining in, casting a glow upon Oliver. He stiffens near the doorway.

Someone is thumping up the stairs. Wait, two people are. Their voices are a dull murmur and I can’t make out who it is. Oliver moves to block the door. Then I hear him. My Prince. He growls, “I may be injured, but I can still kick your ass, Sage. Now move.”

My heart is beating wildly. I jump from the bed and am about to shove Oliver out of the way, when he turns to me. The light from downstairs pours in, illuminating his face. Pain is evident in Oliver’s eyes, and I hate that I’m the reason it’s there. He hangs his head and moves aside.

Luke stumbles in and drops to his knees before me. He looks like hell. His hair is wild, sticking up at odd angles. He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of thin pants. His face is caked with blood, as are his hands, chest, and stomach. I drop to the floor so I’m even with him, and place my hands on his shoulders to steady him as he lists to the side. There are stitches across his chest from the gash I saw earlier. The skin is red and angry.

Moving my hands, I cup his cheeks, bringing his eyes to mine. “Oh, Luke,” I whisper. I start to get choked up and try to keep my tears at bay, however it’s of no use. Seeing him alive makes me elated, but the blood covering him has me hating that he was hurt because of me.

He sags into my touch. “My princess,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I didn’t know what else to do. Please forgive me.”

“What are you apologizing for? You didn’t do anything wrong. You came back to me. That’s all that matters.”

His eyes meet mine and I can tell how sincere he is. It occurs to me why he wants forgiveness. He thinks I’m mad that he killed my father. In truth, I never knew the man, and the little bit I saw of him tonight, I’m glad I didn’t. How he could hold a sword to his own daughter’s neck? I’m not sorry Luke did what he had to so I could be saved. I’m only sorry for all that he endured on my behalf.

“Don’t,” I say. “You don’t have to apologize for that. If you didn’t take care of him, then I might not be here.”

“He was still your father.”

“No,” I shake my head. “While I might refer to him that way, he was never a father to me. I gave him the chance to talk to me and he threatened to kill me. A father doesn’t do that. A father loves and cherishes their child. He did neither.”

Looking up and to my right, I see Elliott and Oliver watching us. “Elliott, please help me get him to the tub. I want to get this blood off of him.” He nods and puts one of Luke’s arms over his shoulder to gently lift him. I start to follow when I feel a hand on my arm. Turning I see Oliver behind me.

“Princess Alison, I cannot stay here. My kingdom must be in turmoil over the loss of their king. I’d ask you to reconsider joining me, but after the night we’ve had I don’t think there is any way you will.” He steps closer, his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. It’s too intimate and causes me to lean away. He lets out a sigh. “I know where your heart lies, however should you ever change your mind, I’ll be waiting.” He leans forward, brushes his lips across my cheek and whispers, “Forever.”

“Oliver –”

He doesn’t let me finish. “Please, don’t say anymore. I want to remember you like this. Beautiful, your eyes only on mine. I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but should you ever need me, I’m only a short flight away by dragon. I will always come when you request me.”

Now there are tears welling in my eyes for a whole different reason. How can someone who doesn’t know me, care about me so deeply? I need to tell him that I want him to move on with his life and not wait for me. I’m not the woman for him.

A throat clears behind me, interrupting our conversation. I realize how close Oliver is still standing to me. I take a step back. Oliver’s eyes narrow over my shoulder.

“Azure, do you have a horse I can borrow to get back to my kingdom?”

Elliott steps up beside me. He places a protective hand at the small of my back. “I’ll do you one better, Sage. I’ll let you borrow my dragon. He knows his way back. Plus, if you don’t send him back within the hour, I’ll come for you,” he says with a malicious smile. Oliver nods having gotten the message.

Turning to me, Elliott motions with his head toward the bathroom. I start to walk away, but turn back and close the distance between Oliver and myself. I place a kiss on his cheek and hug him tightly. His arms pull me closer, his cheek resting against mine.

Whispering in his ear, I say, “Thank you for protecting me and ensuring my safety. I’ll never forget you, Oliver Sage.”

I don’t look back when I walk away this time. I can’t see the heartache on his face again. I’ll splinter open. It’s better this way. I don’t want to lead him on. The man who holds my heart needs me now.

I step into the bathroom and close the door behind me. Luke is climbing into a tub of water. I’ve never seen him completely naked before. Even bloody and battered, he’s gorgeous. I try the best I can not to focus on his firm ass, or between his legs, when he sinks into the water. It’s like my eyes are drawn right to it, though. I need to get my mind out of the gutter and focus on the task at hand. Not a certain other task I’d like to undertake, and not my hand or mouth performing said task.

I push everything aside in my mind and kneel next to the bathtub, facing him. I find a clean washcloth under the sink and lather it up with a bar of soap. His eyes are closed. His arms are lying on either side of the tub, and his head is resting against the back. I start to wash his neck when his head lifts to watch me. Slowly, I clean his face next, cupping water in my hands to rinse him off, being mindful of his stitches, trying not to get them wet which is proving difficult. I make my way over both arms before cleaning around his wound. Now it’s becoming impossible to clean him off and keep the wound dry.

“Why didn’t they clean you better when they stitched you up? And why didn’t they put a bandage over the stitches?” I ask.

His eyes bore into mine with an intensity I haven’t seen yet. “I didn’t want another woman touching me, only you. I didn’t want you to think I cared for her and that’s why I let her touch me.”

“She’s there to help you, Luke. She needs to touch you to fix you up. If I was there I would have embraced her for doing her best to mend you.”

“And she did what she needed, no more. The stitches were done and I left. I wanted to find you and make sure you were okay. My men wouldn’t let me come here first. I tried, but I was quickly overpowered in my weakened state.”

“You needed to get that wound closed. I’m glad you got it taken care of. I just wish someone would have told me you were all right.”

He chuckles, surprising me. “This,” he says, sweeping his arm over his chest, “is nothing. I’ve been hurt much worse.” He lifts his left leg from the water, droplets splashing down, and points to a long scar on the side of his muscular left thigh. I trace it with my finger.

“What happened?”

“The last war was rough on us. A lot were injured, some killed. Someone got the jump on me with their sword and, well, you see the result. It was much deeper than the one on my chest. Walking was not fun for a while. Luckily, it happened at the tail end of the battle, so I didn’t miss much of the fight.”

“I can imagine you fighting through the pain and continuing on until you fall over.”

His lips quirk up on one side. “That’s exactly what happened. Elliott had to pull me away from the heat of it and throw me on Tali to get me home. I barely remember the days after. I lost a lot of blood. Elliott said poor Tali looked like she was the one who was stabbed.”

I shake my head. “I’m glad I wasn’t here to see it. This is bad enough. I was so scared, Luke. I thought…I thought I wasn’t going to see you again.” My bottom lip starts to tremble. He reaches up, placing his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me close until our foreheads touch.

“It’s going to take a lot more than this to take me away from you. The only way I won’t return to your side after a battle is if I’m dead. Hasn’t it sunken in yet that I’m yours?”

Placing a gentle kiss on his lips, I pull back and offer a small smile. “It’s starting to.”

“Finally,” he groans. “Your neck. Are you okay?” His fingers trail along the edge of my bandage.

“I’m fine. I didn’t need stiches or anything.”

“I hate that I couldn’t protect you better.”

“You did just fine.”

I finish cleaning him off and help him get out of the tub, careful to keep my eyes above waist level. Sure, I want to see all of him again now that he’s standing up, but I need to behave. He’s hurt, exhausted, and in pain. While he won’t admit it, I see his mouth pinch tight when he moves.

Finding him shorts, I bring them into the bathroom, and quickly shower while he gets ready for bed. Elliott and Oliver must have left. The house is completely quiet. We both settle into the cool sheets after I draw the damask closed around us, tucking us into our own little cocoon.

He tries to pull me close, but groans in pain, so I gently nudge him onto his back and lay beside him. My leg rests atop his and my fingers settle on his bicep. I don’t want to hurt him further.

“Closer,” he murmurs groggily.

I scoot as close as possible to his side. “There.”

“Not good enough.”

“You’re hurt and tired. This is as close as I get.”

“I hurt more without your body against mine. Now move closer.”

I prop myself up on my elbow and try to figure out how to get closer to him without touching his chest. I settle on moving down and placing my head on his stomach while my arm drapes across his hips.

“Not what I had in mind, but much better.”

I gently tap his stomach with my hand. “Behave.”

He laughs, but then tenses beneath me. The pain must be bad. I tried to get him to take some medicine the healer gave him, although he refused it. I wish he wouldn’t be so stubborn. He’d feel better and probably be able to sleep easier.

His body starts to relax beneath me. I take in his warmth and close my eyes. I still don’t know how someone I’ve only known a couple of weeks has gotten under my skin so fast. The fact that I could have lost him today was enough to scare me into thinking of a life without him.

When things started going downhill with my ex, prior to me catching him cheating, my mother confessed she never thought the two of us made sense. I asked her why she never voiced it previously. She asked if I would have listened to her before my wedding day and not gone through with it. I told her no, of course not, and that I loved him regardless of what she had to say I would have married him. Right then I had my answer as to why she never told me.

So, here I lay on a bed, in a house in a faraway land, where dragons fly through the sky, and there is a field of azure flowers. Maybe Luke had a point when he said everything happened the way it did for a reason. If I had dreamt about him earlier in life, would I be where I am right now? Would I have crossed through the portal that day, and if so, would I have given the key to his father so he could go after his mother?

Those questions, and wondering if I’m finally on the right path in life, keep bouncing around my head well into the night. The nap I had earlier didn’t do me any favors.

I lift myself from him and lie at his side with my hand on his stomach, so I can feel every breath he takes. I hear his groans of pain when he tries to roll over. I feel his hand seeking me out, attempting to pull me close. Eventually, sleep overcomes me, but I’m left with awful dreams of the battle earlier and the way the blade felt on my neck. Every time I wake gasping for air with my hand flying to my neck. The sting of pain is still there. Each time I close my eyes again, I’m immersed back into the nightmare to relive all over again.